User Reviews

Pure fluff, MOBILE HOME GIRLS perfectly represents the type of porn that director Michel Lemoine (a/k/a "Michel Blanc") excelled at while simultaneously drawing out one of the maddeningly variable Olinka's most appealing performances. Eschewing the ponderous psychological drama that marked his early '70s soft core masterpieces LES DESAXEES and LES CHIENES, presumably in the wake of the latter's commercial failure, Lemoine has forever focused on frothy farce throughout a remarkably productive carnal career since. Usually a help but sometimes a hindrance, Polish born Olinka (who dropped her Hardiman surname for traditionally tongue-tied French audiences) proved the last certifiable superstar of the Continental theatrical age, where Prima Donna behavior apparently was not encouraged, completing a meager triumvirate with Brigitte Lahaie and Marilyn Jess – with Claudine Beccarie and Sylvia Bourdon as possible pioneers – until their small screen sisters in sin took over. Though frequently at odds, Lemoine brought out the best in his temperamental leading lady during their fruitful collaboration with ROSALIE SE DECOUVRE and L'ETE LES PETITES CULOTTES S'ENVOLENT (known stateside as BLONDES LIKE IT HOT and FLYING SKIRTS respectively) additional indisputable highlights thereof. In the role of Nadia, protective den mother of a quartet of ambulant prostitutes, she displays a warmth hitherto rarely glimpsed, genuinely caring towards her charges and sensuously understanding of their clients.

With Paris pretty much deserted for summer, Madame Nadia and her girls decide to track down tourist trade with their spacious van in the scenic surroundings of the Valle d'Aoste, just across the Swiss border into Italy. Banned from city center by crooked cop Eric Dray (a/k/a "Eric Saville", hands down the hottest hunk in '80s French fornication fare), they set up shop in the countryside, hapless Stephanie (the always welcome Marianne Aubert a/k/a "Patricia Violet") pressed into duty of drumming up business by cruising the town square carrying a billboard advertising their services. This is where she bumps into her rich kid boyfriend Pascal (Antony Ray) and his disapproving dad (ubiquitous Italian stallion Gabriel Pontello), whose feigned outrage is quickly overcome as he jogs past the tarts' trailer, enjoying the full treatment with subsidiary strumpets Maria Granada and Françoise. The latter never seems to have made another movie and for pretty black Granada and young Tony Ray the only other credit appears to be for Lemoine's minor MARILYN, MON AMOUR, suggesting that both flicks were shot back to back. Needless to say, Stephanie catches her reluctant prospective father in law in the act and blackmails him into approval, to dismay of equally two-faced spouse Laura Clair who has been spending afternoons in the amorous embrace of bartender John Oury. Tired of the older generation's meddling, the young lovers flee to Venice, with the expected travelogue footage for added production value.

While the Mediterranean scenery offers plenty of possibilities for legendary DoP François About to shine, he's just as proficient within the camper's cramped quarters, casting a soft diffuse glow over the panting physiques. With little in the way of narrative complexity, focus rests firmly on the sensual, unrushed lovemaking, some of the most intense Lemoine has ever orchestrated. Explosive chemistry highlights the luxuriously lengthy shower and poolside encounter between the adorable Aubert and an admirably rigid Ray, an exuberantly youthful duet generously mirrored in the equally erotic sequence where the comparatively middle-aged Oury thoroughly honors the lusciously seasoned Clair who has seldom looked more radiant. Supporting rather than starring, Olinka's almost side-tracked as a result though she delivers an indelible image when gyrating across the cop's motorcycle prior to engaging in three-way action with Dray and Françoise. If there is indeed a downside to this otherwise delightful movie, it just might be that infernally infectious title song, which really does wear out its welcome as it blares through your sound system for the umpteenth time.